


Change of heart

by Summerlake



Series: Dragon Age: Strong souls [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Opposite POV, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 18:45:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6020923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summerlake/pseuds/Summerlake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd told Varric that all there was to spying was drinking and writing notes. It was. Mostly. They say people can't change overnight, but she did and over a matter of what appeared to be minutes.<br/>Iron Bull's PoV regarding the Herald's attitude in ch 20 of Saar asala.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change of heart

**Author's Note:**

> I won't promise anything, but it seems like there's a pattern. Roughly every 10 main story chapters, a good "opposite PoV" point comes up (especially for Iron Bull). We'll see if it lasts.

He didn’t have many reasons to go Haven’s chantry, but there were a few. He’d been seen up there a few times but still had more than a hand left to count the visits on. This time, he confessed, it had been planned. He was interested in what they were going to say but the war council usually took their business into the war room quickly. Not this time apparently. If one were to judge from the raised voices, they hadn’t even passed the midway point of the nave. Iron Bull refrained from shaking his head lightly and instead situated himself against the wall, near the doors. He could tune out the faint nearby buzz of the village fairly easily. If you were careful, and with a bit of practice, you could usually pick up on choice words. It had been as vital as being able to read people visually up in Seheron.

The argument inside didn’t last long, ending in a harsh outburst from the Qunari inside. He only had a few seconds to recognise the muted sound as angry steps coming closer. He wasn’t nearly fast enough at getting out of the way but the doors were heavy and she, despite all her fury, didn’t have the muscle power to throw them that far or hard. Iron Bull caught the door heading his way, threatening a bruise. The other thunked sadly against the doorpost opposite but it was a quiet sound. He doubted Asala even noticed as she tore through Haven. He watched her go for a second, then eased out around the door and began to follow at a safe distance. He apparently wasn’t the only one keeping at more than an arm’s length, he noticed before long. If she hadn’t been so furious and the topic that caused it not been as important as it was, it might have been funny.

She had good legs, he’d give her that, but he lengthened his stride to not lose sight of her. It was a fine balance to not appear as though following her specifically but he had training. She also appeared far too incensed to notice much around her. Once it got beyond the walls of Haven and closer to the edge of the encampment outside, he took a bit of a detour. He could still spot her through the tents due to her height and different colouration. Oh, and her manner of dress. No one here except for him was that lightly dressed. He’d always been told he was great to drape around the person for warmth… and other reasons, of course. That particular compliment usually came after a lot of _other_ stuff.

For a moment he did wonder if she wasn’t as angry as she appeared because she was certainly in control of her temper considering how far away from Haven they had moved. The village’s lights and the encampment’s many bonfires blazed as little beacons through the dark and trees now. Was she going to spend that hour walking around and kicking up snow? As far as cooling off went, this was fairly simple and not too time consuming, he guessed, but it was boring as fuck. Considering how she was as taut as Sera’s bowstring, she could use some of that. He hadn’t gotten the indication that she indulged in any physical activity, not from her or anyone else in the camp and he was good at digging up information like that. The trees began to clear as an empty field came into view.

And then the fireworks started.

He’d never liked the South’s idea of fireworks.

This, however, was slightly different. He refrained from making any sound, despite how she obviously wouldn’t hear him and not due to him standing well away. He’d been wrong though, he confessed. She wasn’t like Sera’s bowstring. She was more like Sera’s bowstring when an arrow had been nocked and pulled back for maximum effect; taut enough to snap. Well, apparently the string had finally done just that.

Snow flew into the air with forces usually reserved for storm winds. The sprays flared and curled, almost mimicking the mighty wings of a dragon. Magic. The ice crystals were thrown into the air and shaped into such patterns with magic, he was certain. Besides, anything else wouldn’t have been logical. Still didn’t make it look any less like the woman was growing wings. And then the fire flared to bright hot life. That theory his colleagues in the Ben-Hassrath had told him once was looking awfully plausible right now. She was supposedly a Vashoth though, having never had the discipline of the Qun. He said supposedly because there were all these little hints that spoke for and against it and no definite trail to lead him right. She had either managed to hide damn well… or spoke the truth. Neither option felt entirely right though.

From what he’d been able to pick up on her, she wasn’t the type that led. She’d left that as much as she could to those she obviously considered more suited for it. It was a smart move, not that most in Haven seemed to see her as separate from the other leaders. He hadn’t been around long but from what little he had seen of her in action, it was obvious she tried hard to fill at least the bare bones of what was demanded of the role she’d been dropped into. It was a valiant try but it left her… a bit stressed, it seemed. And that was being polite about it.

Apparently, it had all reached a breaking point in Redcliffe Castle, but none of them had seen it as she and the Tevinter mage had been thrown into the future. Iron Bull couldn’t say he envied them but he could tell _something_ had happened there. From her retelling, it hadn’t been pretty and they had all died apparently. It was never fun watching people die before you, even less so if they did it _for_ you or your survival. However, that usually translated into apathia, melancholy and similar maladies. States brought on by fear and affection. Asala seemed to have some sort of affection for Sera funnily enough but it didn’t appear physical, it was closer to familial maybe, to use a Southern term. To him it almost seemed like how the child-caring tamassrans acted if he had to put a finger on it.

None of that explained the sudden change in the so-called Herald of Andraste though. She’d been an unwilling representative of the Inquisition until suddenly disappearing in a swirl of magic, only to appear moments later and be… what? Act like she’d aged a few years, grown up, the Southerners might say. She was suddenly speaking and acting on behalf of the Inquisition with a lot less reservation. She hadn’t taken advantage of her situation, no, just fully taken on the duties accompanying the position she’d always been in. She still had a fair way to go but she’d taken a huge leap. He felt like she hadn’t told everything that had happened in the past, which was why he’d moved to try and listen in a bit on the conversation with the war council. That _had_ given him a bit more but not a lot and certainly nothing that could explain her sudden change of heart.

A loud crack resounded through the open field and one of the solitary trees began to tilt… until it fell, loudly complaining as it went. The tree either brought the woman out of her frenzy or she’d just run out of juice because now she just stood there, staring at the fallen pine. After a short while she sank into a seated position, kind of just drooped, as though she was a plant that had just noticed the climate wasn’t meant for her. Enough time passed that he was actually beginning to wonder if he should step forward, but then she dropped the rest of the way to lie on her back.

A lot had happened lately, he agreed, and he couldn’t understand everything due to a lot of it having to do with magic, of all troublesome things. Iron Bull allowed his face to contort into a grimace for a few heartbeats. Apparently even she had reached her limit of accepting magical and weird crap. Travelling into the future? No one could blame a person for cracking a bit along the edges when faced with that. Still. She’d had a great amount of control over herself.

When she began to rise slowly, laboriously, Iron Bull carefully began to inch away. He gave the direct path back to Haven, the one she was most likely to take, a wide berth. He also dusted snow over the traces of his passing that was closest to where she’d walk. Once he was far enough away to not be heard, he stretched his legs to cover more ground without having to run. She’d probably not walk very fast herself but he wanted to get back before her and running increased the risk of bumping into low branches and making noise.

He did make it back well before her and even had to wait a few minutes in his tent. That was fine. When she became visible through the maze of canvas structures, he waited until she was almost past before casually exiting. He had told Varric all there was to spying was in acting like you weren’t and writing notes. He hadn’t lied, it was just that sometimes you had to go that little extra mile. At least if there was something you couldn’t figure out by simply observing from a distance.

“Hey, boss, out for an evening walk?”

She slowed her pace and then stopped, waiting for him to reach her. “Yes.” She was eyeing him carefully but then pulled her gaze away. “There’s been a lot going on lately.” It almost sounded as though she felt slightly guilty over something. She didn’t have a lot of tells normally but today, apparently, she’d lost her grip on most of them along with her temper. Then again, it could also be that easy to read her because he knew what to look for.

“I’m going for a drink. Why not join me?” he offered with a relaxed smile. “I’m a bit short on drinking buddies tonight.” Her gaze slid back to him, staying there for a moment, before it moved towards the entrance to the village. She was quiet for a while, not so long that it would’ve been seen as odd to anyone else but it made him guess she was debating the offer with herself. Apparently something tipped the debate in his favour.

“All right. But only two glasses. There are still things I need to do tonight.”

“Nice!” he grinned appreciatively. She had said only a short while but he’d done good work on one glass. Of course, she might be enticed to stay longer. Most people relaxed when they had a bit to drink and calm company. He’d never been accused of offering only soothing company but he had many talents. They didn’t say much on the way to the tavern but that was fine. People shuffled around when they came in, making space for the two Qunari close to the lively fireplace two tables over from the corner where the minstrel played. Once seated, they quickly got served and then left alone.

Iron Bull filled their cups before raising his in a small salute. She gave a small, lopsided smile, a charming but weak gesture, and returned the gesture, then watched him as he raised the cup to his mouth. It was a fairly good brew, considering how their supply lines had been and what’d had to be prioritised. It was nothing like the killer stuff they made up north though. Few things compared to that! Once in a while, he managed to get hold of some though. It was always saved for special occasions.

“I would like to apologise for taking you along to Redcliffe.”

Iron Bull lowered his almost empty cup to regard her. This had never come up before. “Why?” he asked without fanfare. It’d been a logical move and she hadn’t gone there to ally with the mages, simply to stop them from tearing the countryside apart. Someone had to after all. She raised her eyes and met his.

“You’re Qunari. W… I know that… You people don’t really feel comfortable around magic.” She stumbled in the middle of her reply but got it across. They hadn’t spoken much about the Qunari. He’d assumed she knew as much as she needed or wanted to know. Most Tal-Vashoth were proud to see themselves as such and the very few Vashoth he’d met didn’t seem to care much either way. They either saw themselves as people in a no-man’s-land due to being born Vashoth or members of whatever country they lived in. Asala, on the other hand, seemed to still consider herself Qunari as far as he could tell. It was little things in her speech pattern, how she moved and more. It was so faint that it almost wasn’t there unless you looked for it. Like just now. He was fairly certain she’d been about to say “we”.

“Didn’t see too much of it,” he replied with a casual shrug. The action was as much for the truth of the statement as for her benefit. You never got much out of people who were fretting.

“No, I guess you didn’t.” Her gaze fell to her still full cup. “It got a bit disorienting there for a while.”

He wasn’t surprised. Seeing people die before you one second and then come back to see the very same people alive and well? Anyone would feel like they needed to sit down and take a few. Only she hadn’t. She’d gone straight into dealing with the magister and then the heads of Ferelden and then to oversee the mages on the journey here. The list went on. “And you’re sure that Tevinter guy sent you into the future?” he asked to hopefully bring her out of the almost blank stare she was giving her cup. She took a mouthful of her weak mead before meeting his gaze.

“Quite so, yes. Unfortunately. It wasn’t pretty,” she replied, looking slightly uncomfortable. He grunted in agreement. From what she’d told them while they travelled back here, it hadn’t been nice, no. Casting a glance into his cup, he frowned then refilled it. She’d hardly even started on hers. As far as using drinks for relaxing went, she was doing rather poorly. “If you’re scared, don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” she commented amusedly before lifting her cup. He raised his gaze to her face and frowned at her. Little minx. Saying such ridiculous things. He wasn’t afraid. Something in his face must have been amusing to her because when she beheld it again, she began chuckling under her breath.

“My blade pretty much protects me,” he replied but refrained from snorting at her insolence. Protect him, indeed.

An amused sound escaped her. “If your blade could do everything I could, I would have stolen it long ago.” He regarded her as she gave her cup a wistful glance. He was pretty certain it wasn’t due to wanting something stronger to drink.

“And done what?”

“Chucked it at the Breach, for one,” she replied without hesitation. “There are a lot of problems in need of solving though, so if it didn’t come back down, the Breach would have to be last on the list.” Good to know she still had some humour and logical sense to her, despite everything that had happened lately. Her comment also made it sound like that wasn’t how she would solve things any longer, that she was done waiting and hoping for a better solution. After all, no one appeared willing to step forward and offer a solution or make a decision. Since so many looked to her though, whether she wanted it or not, she would. Apparently Redcliffe and the future had done something to make her decide that. It was interesting how everything had seemingly fallen apart during that year she’d been missing only to start turning as soon as she returned.

“And now?”

She lifted her gaze to him again, blinking in surprise at the question. Assumptions were good bases to start from, at least as long as you didn’t see them as the only possible truth, but he wanted a more straightforward answer from her lips. “Now? Now, we’ll solve things the old fashioned way.” As far as bluntness went, that wasn’t very useful. “But I guess if some people need a beating I could always lend my unmarked hand to the cause,” she added with a shrug before emptying her cup.

“Hey, old fashioned is a damned fine method,” he argued and grabbed her pitcher, refilling her cup. “Although I gotta say, I don’t understand your taste in drinks. This hardly tastes anything,” he added as he sniffed the almost empty jug before putting it back down and refiling his own cup with something he called a proper drink. She snorted in faint amusement.

“I’ve got work to do,” she supplied as though work was all anyone ever did. He shook his head. If she did nothing but work and worry, no wonder she was snapping like a twig.

“And you wish to go?” His question caused her to regard him. He guessed he could have put it even more bluntly. She’d begun to take on the responsibilities that had been shoved on her instead of simply looking to others, and it wasn’t due to not having the seeker constantly at her side anymore either. In the end, her reply was a shrug.

“I’m needed, so I’ll go.” That was the most Qunari thing he’d ever heard come out of her mouth. “No one else can close rifts and few seem to have their heads screwed on right these days,” she said before taking a few consecutive swallows, emptying her cup. Once done, she pushed it away and stood up with a smile. She looked a bit more relaxed, the better kind at that. “I should go before anyone comes looking for me. Thanks for the drink and the company though.”

He nodded at her. “Anytime, boss. You should actually do it more often. It’ll help you relax.”

She grinned at him then, an expression somewhere between amusement and doubt if he was any judge. “Thank you, but I’ve got it covered. I’ll be fine.” Now that, he was pretty sure, was a lie.


End file.
